


Thaessu

by spockside



Series: Rihannsu [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Culture, Altered Mental States, Episode Related, F/M, Interspecies, Kidnapping, Rough Sex, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockside/pseuds/spockside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock has proposed marriage to his Romulan lover, who accepts, but before they take another step they are kidnapped by someone from her past. Sequel to "Rihanssu".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The first segment of this tale is "Rihannsu", in which Spock encounters the Romulan commander from "The Enterprise Incident" and, after various adventures, proposes marriage to her. In this storyline she is known as "Tanafau".

Tanafau, as she was still known to all but one, sat on a stone on the heights above Shi'Kahr as Spock added fuel to the fire in the pit. She watched his form, black against the flames, as he moved about, and wondered whether it would be untoward of her to act on her desire. He came to stand beside her and watched the firelight dancing in her eyes.

"Is it tradition?" she asked, and he replied, "When a Vulcan man is betrothed, his family lights a fire in a high place, originally to gather the clan for the bonding ceremony. In modern times, it is merely symbolic, as the betrothal and the bonding are not always concurrent."

"And for us?"

"I must return to  _Enterprise_  tonight," he said with regret. "I do not know how you wish to proceed with our - situation. I realize I am leaving you to, as my mother would say, 'face the music'."

"I can face it, Spock. Between your mother and me, we will do what is necessary to make this happen."

Spock did not ask how she knew his mother would approve. He asked formally, "Will you join with my mind, so that we may not be parted?"

"I will," she said. "Show me."

He closed his eyes and lay his hands on her face, finding her contact points. This was not like before, she thought; then it had been an exchange of emotions and physical need. Now she could actually hear an echo in her mind as his lips spoke the words:

" _Hlai'vna_ *. Parted from me, and never parted. Always and never touching and touched."

"Spock. Parted from me, and never parted. Always and never touching and touched."

As she spoke the last word, it was as though the eyes of her mind had been opened. She could see his thoughts, not as words, but as distant sounds and shapes. Seeing sounds? She shook her head and looked up at him.

"This will take some getting used to," she said.

"I am told that once the bond is complete, we will be better able to control what is shared between our minds," said her beloved. "I believe that distance also diminishes the intensity of the bond." He removed his hands from her contact points, but held her face in his hands. "How do you feel?"

"Slightly drunk. Pleasantly so. And you?"

"As though my blood pressure had dropped suddenly, or I had been unable to meditate for some time, or I had experienced a head injury, or fatigue had - "

She interrupted him again with her kiss. "Drunk, my Vulcan."

"I will take your word for it." He no longer had to hold anything back from her and he allowed his emotions to flow through their link, her own coming back to him in a rhythm like the tide. Their hands and mouths echoed the tide, now touching, now tasting, now drawing back to be touched.

Tanafau wondered if the hum she felt in her extremities was typical and had pulled back to ask when, to her horror, she realized it was a transport beam, and it had engulfed them both.

*

"Ambassador Sarek," Kirk began hesitantly. "I don't know how to tell you this, but - Spock is no longer anywhere on Vulcan. Neither is Tanafau."

"Explain." The Vulcan seated before him did not change his expression, but his voice hardened.

"We did a scan from orbit, with no result, then beamed down to the area where you said he was last headed. There is no trace of his specific life signs, nor of any Romulan life signs."

"Would this scan have found bodies, if they were dead?"

 _Trust a Vulcan not to delay the tough questions_ , thought Kirk. Aloud he said, "We would have found DNA, although if they were killed with a Klingon weapon, a disruptor, even that might be scarce."

"Is there any evidence that they departed in a ship of some kind?"

"None. No ion trail, no vessels unaccounted for. There was one anomaly we noted about an hour ago, however, in the local atmosphere - an energy signature we're not familiar with. Scotty's trying to identify it."

As if on cue, his communicator beeped. "Excuse me, sir," said Kirk and opened it. "Kirk here."

"Scott here, Captain. The energy signature we logged - it's Romulan, sir."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Probably a transporter pattern, sir. We compared it with the data we've been collecting from scans of the Neutral Zone."

"Acknowledged, Mr. Scott. I'll be returning shortly. Kirk out." He stowed his communicator and looked at Sarek, who had heard the conversation.

"We cannot rule out the possibility that they went willingly," he said calmly. "At least, that one of them did."

*

Spock regained consciousness all at once, in a space completely devoid of light or warmth and short on oxygen. When he moved the echoes told him it was a small room. He sat up carefully; he had been lying on the floor on his back. The only pain he felt was in the back of his neck and his arm, presumably where he had fallen when incapacitated. He had not carried a sidearm or a communicator on his walk with Tanafau, and he was in civilian clothing. There was nothing on him to indicate his identity. He didn't know whether that was an asset or a liability - yet.

Cautiously he reached out with his mind to find Tanafau. He sensed her presence nearby, which meant she was at least alive, if not conscious. He groped his way around the room; it was just large enough for him to stand or stretch out on the floor, and the door was sealed so that there were no cracks for even a trickle of a draft. That was the extent of his ability to assess his situation. He settled into a sitting position with his back to the wall, facing the door, and waited. He did not have to wait long.

The door opened abruptly, sliding aside swiftly to expose his eyes to overwhelmingly bright light behind a broad male figure who barked, "On your feet." Spock was already upright and at battle ready, and the voice rapped out, "Come out or stay in, I don't care, but don't bother trying to attack us."

 _A man of few words_ , thought Spock, and the words were Romulan. He walked calmly and slowly out of the room, his eyes adjusting, and found himself in a dim corridor with, presumably, cell doors lining it. He spared a moment to wonder whether Tanafau was behind one of them. His burly guard stepped within inches of Spock's shoulder and growled, "Keep moving."

Spock walked in the direction indicated, as if he had intended to do so anyway, his ears pricked for any sound of another prisoner. Nothing. And still nothing from her mind. He and his keepers traveled a few corridors until they reached a larger door with the emblem of the Romulan Empire on it. The leader of the guards activated the comm panel and said, "Commander, we have brought the Vulcan, as ordered."

"Enter," said a voice and the door slid open.

The office was larger than that on the only other Romulan ship he had boarded, and it was certainly not decorated as tastefully as the other had been. But it was unmistakably a commander who rose from the chair, not out of respect, but to draw himself up to his full height, nearly as tall as the Vulcan's.

"I am commander of this vessel," he stated. "You have been imprisoned by order of the Praetor, to be transported back to ch'Rihan for questioning."

"On what charge have I been detained?" Spock asked coldly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the guards twitch as if to strike him, but no blow came. The commander stared at Spock for a moment, then said, "You are not in a position to demand that information, prisoner. What is your name?"

"Spock," he said, opting for simplicity.

The commander then said, "What is the name of your companion?"

His companion. Tanafau. Was she still alive? Free, or in custody as he was? He said cautiously, "My companion would not wish me to reveal that information without permission."

It was a good answer; Romulans did not provide their names, even their public names, so easily. The commander grunted and nodded to the guards. "Take him back. Give him something to eat; we don't want him to starve before we get to ch'Rihan." To Spock he said, "I will tell you that your companion is alive and on this vessel. It is she in whom we are interested. You may be spared to return to your people. Eventually."

He turned his back as Spock was removed from the room, not much wiser than when he had gone in.

  



	2. Chapter 2

The commander left his office and strode down two hallways to a heavily guarded door. After giving the password he entered the maximum security detention area. He turned a corner and came in sight of a large cell with a force field on one side. It contained a bed, a sanitary alcove, and one prisoner, female, Romulan.  
"I have seen your companion," said the commander. "He is alive and well, at the moment."

"He knows nothing. He is my employee, that is all. There is no point in detaining him."

"I would not give up an opportunity to hold a bargaining chip should our escape be hindered." He stood directly across the force field from her. "I would prefer to be out of this quadrant before anyone notices your absence."

She debated telling him that Spock's absence was likely to be noticed more quickly than her own, but dismissed the idea instantly. Evidently they had not learned who he was - yet.

"Neither of us is of any consequence. I fail to see your purpose in abducting us."

"Do you," he said softly, "Charvanek?" *

She froze for a moment, but he had seen the recognition in her eyes and went on, "You have not heard that name in many years, I am sure."

"I have never heard that name."

"It is the name of one who is dead, captured by the Federation - or defected to them."

"Then it can't be my name, as I'm very much alive," she countered.

He smiled humorlessly. "We verified your identity once we beamed you and your companion aboard. I know who you are, and who you were. What I don't know is who your companion is, and why the two of you were on a hilltop in the dark with no communicator or weaponry."

"I am not a soldier; neither is he. We don't need any such equipment." Vulcans may have difficulty lying, but Romulans had no such inhibition.

"We'll find out the truth soon enough," the commander shrugged. "I know that you are trained - were trained! - not to break under interrogation. But he is a different matter." He turned as if to go. Tanafau spoke up once more.

"He is a Vulcan. He knows nothing, and he will tell you nothing."

"Perhaps. But the process should be interesting."

*

Spock paced and meditated and kept trying to reach his mind out to Tanafau. Their bond was embryonic, tenuous; perhaps that was impeding his ability to sense her thoughts. Food was shoved into the room through the barely-opened door, no meat, plenty of water. He finished it all, then lay down on the floor in front of the door; if he slept and someone entered the room, he would know it and perhaps gain an advantage by tripping at least one of them.

When he woke several hours had passed. He got up to stretch and almost immediately the door opened. Was he being monitored? His guard did not enter, but barked, "Come with us. You are to see the commander."

For a moment Spock wondered what would happen if he did not comply. But only for a moment; if there were a chance he could find out more about Tanafau's condition he would go on cooperating, to a point. He was ushered once more into the commander's office. This time the commander turned to the guards and said, "Take up positions outside this door."

Spock stood, as usual, with hands behind his back, as the commander walked around his desk to stand within arm's length of him. The Romulan was young, tall, with evidence of at least one broken nose in his lifetime, brown hair and eyes. He folded his arms and fixed Spock with his stare.

"You are Vulcan, are you not?" Spock nodded. "Would it surprise you to find that your companion is not Vulcan?"

"Not at all. It is known in Shi'Kahr that she is of Romulan origin."

"How did she come to live on Vulcan?"

"She has not shared that information with me," replied Spock.

"How long has she lived there?" shot back the Romulan.

"Again, I am not privy to that information."

"How long have you known her?"

"Approximately four and one half years, as time is calculated on Vulcan." This was the truth; it was then that they had carried out their mission to steal the cloaking device. Let the commander draw his own conclusions. He was not an effective interrogator; he seemed to be "fishing", to use a human colloquialism.

The Romulan turned abruptly and reached to activate a monitor on his desk, watching Spock's face. The image that appeared was from a security monitor trained on a detention cell; the cell's occupant was Tanafau. If the Romulan commander had hoped for a reaction of some kind, however, he did not get it..

"I am relieved that my companion, as you call her, seems unharmed. She is an exceptional artisan, and I hold her in high regard." No harm in intimating that she has value, he thought, at least on a professional level.

"Artisan? What kind of artisan?"

"She creates small sculptures, mostly from native Vulcan materials. She has a thriving business in Shi'Kahr."

"Really." For some reason this seemed to amuse the commander. He switched off the monitor and went back to sit behind his desk. "That was not her first calling."

Spock did not rise to the bait, but merely raised an eyebrow.

"I have heard Vulcans have no emotions," the commander remarked. "Do you not have curiosity either?"

"My only curiosity is in regard to the reason for our abduction, and the likelihood of our release."

"The likelihood of your release is very, very slim," said the commander with some satisfaction. "We have entered what the Federation calls the Neutral Zone by now. "

"Indeed. My curiosity then extends to the question of what you intend to do with us now."

"My course of action in regard to her," and the Romulan jerked his head at the now-blank monitor, "is no concern of yours. You, however, are another variable. Can you think of a reason why I should keep you alive?"

"Curiosity, perhaps?"

The commander smirked. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you will be of use to us, in ways you could never imagine." He signaled the guards, who entered the room. "We are going to the maximum security wing. Bring him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Charvanek is the family name given to the Romulan Commander in several non-canon sources.


	3. Chapter 3

Tanafau had prepared herself for this confrontation and did not so much as blink when Spock was brought to stand before her, across the force field. As she'd expected, neither did he. They glanced at each other and Tanafau said, almost negligently, "Spock. I trust they have treated you well?"

"Well enough. How are you faring?"

"Well enough. I regret that you were an unwilling passenger on this voyage. The fault is mine. As you may have guessed, it was I these people were after when they beamed us aboard."

"I do not hold you responsible, Tanafau."

She bowed her head briefly in thanks.

"May I ask a personal question?" Spock said with an eye on the commander, who nodded at the same time as Tanafau. "Why were we taken? What interest do Romulans have in an artist and a shopkeeper?"

"They refuse to believe you are my assistant," she said with an ironic smile. Spock noted the hint as to his presumed role in her story. "For some reason, they believe you are part of an organization spying on the Federation, led by me."

He allowed his eyebrow to express mild surprise. "I am not part of any organization involved in espionage; I was not aware one existed on Vulcan. Have you evidence to support this claim?" he said, turning to the commander. When the man stared silently at him, he turned back to Tanafau and said, "Surely, even if there were, you would not be part of such a venture."

She remained silent as well, as if leaving him to draw his own conclusions, so he pressed the issue. "Tanafau, are you part of such an organization?" He frowned very slightly, as if confused. "Have you been spying for the Romulan Empire, all this time?"

She kept her eyes on his as she lifted her chin and stated, "Yes. I have."

The commander's face relaxed into something like satisfaction. "You see, Spock, she is not what she seems. You would do well to distance yourself from any association with her. But that isn't the end of it. Tell him, Charvanek."

Spock watched as she turned a venomous look on the commander.

"You are so fond of the story. You tell him. I will not demean myself further by causing my friend distress." She turned away and paced slowly around her cell. The commander went on, with his eye on Spock.

"She was once commander of a ship like this, Spock. A member of the Romulan military. She was given the honor of testing a certain - weapon we had developed, and she let it slip through her fingers." He was savoring this. "Two Federation agents managed to steal it from under her very nose. But before the Empire could deliver justice to her, she escaped with the Federation men and has been hiding on Vulcan ever since."

"That's the version they're teaching you in officers' training, anyway," she scoffed.

Spock could not read her expression. He was still baffled by his inability to sense her thoughts through the bond; they were within meters of each other, albeit separated by a force field, but that should not have made any difference. He realized he was shaking his head.

"The truth is - " Tanafau began.

"You have heard the truth, Spock," cut in the commander. "We will take you back to ch'Rihan, and we will hear the details of your so-called exile, Charvanek, and extract any information we can about the Federation. Then you will stand trial for your betrayal and face your execution."

"How efficient," she said, bitterly. She stopped pacing and fixed her gaze on Spock, arms folded across her chest. The first two fingers of her right hand tapped together, absently, against her arm. Spock bowed his head as if in defeat, letting his hands hang at his sides, his fingers assuming the same configuration as hers, the ozh'esta, against the black tunic he still wore.

"Any more questions, Spock?" asked the commander.

"I have heard enough," he said with dignity and turned away from Tanafau. They took him back to his dark cell.

*

"A Vulcan?"

"Yes, Commander. He says his name is Spock."

The fleet commander leaned back in his chair on the viewscreen and regarded his subordinate. "And he was in the company of the woman when she was captured?"

"Yes, sir. Our standing order was to scan for and capture any Romulan signatures, particularly in the vicinity of the Vulcan homeworld. When we beamed her aboard she was in physical contact with this Vulcan."

His superior was silent for another minute, thinking. Then he leaned forward and said, "You will rendezvous with my ship and transfer the prisoners to my custody. Both of them. And do not allow them to speak to each other. Now, transfer me to your ship's medical officer."

"Understood," said the commander. He wondered what it was all about.

*

The Romulan commander strolled up and down outside Tanafau's cell as if on a leisurely promenade, musing aloud.

"Spock seems quite disappointed in you, Charvanek. I wonder whether that's because you are a spy or because you lied to him? I see how he looks at you. Very intently."

"All Vulcans wear this expression," she said, shrugging. "It's very flattering, until one finds that they approach all of life with the same demeanor. It's nothing personal."

"He has worked for you for some time; you have forged some kind of friendship, I assume."

"Assume what you like. I would rather he were not put to death, for the sake of his family, but if you do so it will not alter my actions in the least." She had retreated into her command persona in order to avoid thinking about Spock dead.

"Ah, your actions. Now we come to it." He stopped to face her. "Your actions during the test of the cloaking device. Your actions afterward, when the Federation agents escaped and took you with them. Was that their intention, or yours? What did you hope to accomplish? Defection? Escape from the Praetor's wrath?"

"I will not answer to you for anything I may or may not have done. You may speculate all you wish. When I am questioned by the Praetor's court, then you will hear about my intentions."

"So be it," he said, turned on his heel, and left.

*

"As long as he is lucid, he is a threat," argued the fleet commander. "It won't kill him, will it?"

"No, not if I'm careful," said the doctor. "But what do you hope to gain?"

"Either information from him, or a false step from her," stated the other and signed off.

*

A day into their voyage, Spock awoke, disoriented; he could not tell what time it was by his internal sense. More alarming, he could not sense Tanafau's presence either. He sat on the floor, trying to breathe deeply and focus, and the door was suddenly flung open to reveal his team of guards.

"You will come with us," said the leader, as usual, and Spock said, "I have had no food today."

"That is not my concern. Get up."

Spock rose to his feet, carefully, as he felt his balance had been compromised, and followed.

He was pushed into a transporter niche at gunpoint and materialized on another ship - he presumed; although the layout of the room was precisely the same as that he had left, the decor was newer. At least his powers of observation were intact, he thought as he stepped off the pad.

"You will wait here," barked a new lead guard; there were four, all with weapons leveled at various parts of his anatomy. He did not respond, but felt himself sway slightly as he stood. What had happened to him?


	4. Chapter 4

Tanafau materialized in another part of the other ship. Her entourage consisted of four guards and another officer; Spock was nowhere to be seen. She showed no sign of impatience as they waited in the corridor; finally the door to the meeting area was opened and the officer led the way in.

At the top of the table sat a man with a familiar face. He nodded to her as she was shown to a seat at the other end, surrounded by her guards, and said, "Charvanek. It has been a long time."

"It certainly has," she said, "Commander Tal."

"We are here to discuss the conditions under which you will be confined, on this ship and when we reach ch'Rihan," Tal went on briskly.

Ironic, she thought. I have just spent days in Federation custody; now I am subjected to Romulan custody. She remained silent and Tal continued.

"You will be installed in our maximum security cell for now. As you show signs of cooperation, you may be transferred to crew quarters. Under guard, of course, and with limited resources. That is all."

Before her guards could escort her out of the room, she spoke up. "What about my companion? The other prisoner?"

"I have not yet seen the other. You will hear soon enough of his situation, if it concerns you."

She passed Spock and his guards in the corridor. One glance told her that he was not himself; there was uncertainty in his face and body language. Subdued, but evident to her eyes. He held her eye as long as possible while keeping his face forward, but gave no other sign of recognition.

As he moved out of sight, she tried and failed to shut out the thought of Tal's reaction.

*

Spock stood, hands at his sides. He recognized the commander, who had not yet looked up from his padd. Under different circumstances Spock might have been amused.

Tal, having kept the prisoner standing while he demonstrated what a busy man he was, finally glanced up at the silent figure at the other end of the table.

"It is you." He came around the table to stand several meters from Spock. Spock stared at him calmly.

"Commander Spock, is it not?"

"My name is Spock."

"Are you still a commander in Starfleet?"

"I am." At this, the guards exchanged astonished glances. No mere shopkeeper, this one.

"What is your purpose here?"

Spock recited his service number, closed his mouth, and resumed staring at Tal. Tal stared back for a moment, then gave a bark of laughter.

"Take him to one of the cells in the science department. I will waste no more time questioning you, Spock of Vulcan," he said to the prisoner. "But you will tell us all your secrets in the end."

Illogically, Spock thought, they all say that.

This time they were nearly right.

*

Our situation has gone from bad to worse, thought Tanafau as she paced her cell. If they had not fallen into Tal's hands she might have been able to convince their captors to release Spock, whatever happened to her. But Tal would recognize the Vulcan, she was sure, and he would use Spock for all he was worth, whether for bargaining or for status.

She recalled Spock's demeanor in the hallway. She could barely sense his presence, and what she sensed was turmoil and confusion. When she tried to express reassurance through their bond, it seemed to do no good. Whatever was happening to him, it was interfering with his mind somehow.

If his mind was compromised, it would be up to her to plan their escape.

*

Spock sat cross-legged on the floor of his new cell. It was unfurnished except for a sanitary cubicle. His shoes had been taken from him, and the metal clasp from his cloak, in which he was currently wrapped. He was shivering, but not from cold. He could guess now what the Romulans were doing to him.

There was a chemical substance known as trellium, which in small amounts was useful in treating neurological damage, but not in telepathic races. When telepaths were overexposed to trellium, the reverse occurred; their mental and telepathic abilities deteriorated, sometimes permanently. Spock had studied this substance, knew the symptoms of its misuse, and he was now under mounting apprehension that he was being poisoned with it, either in food or drink, or through the environment of the cell.

The very fact that he was feeling fear was significant. The fact that he was unable to meditate, unable to focus or calm himself, was alarming. What did they hope to gain? Military secrets? Once the Federation was aware of Spock's abduction, steps would be taken to change or safeguard any information he could divulge. Vulcan or no Vulcan, that was standard procedure. He had once told Tanafau that military secrets were the most fleeting of all.

If they mean to use me to coerce her into cooperating, they have another problem on their hands, he thought with a stab of pride. If he was recalcitrant, she was downright immovable.

As he fought to concentrate on anything, an equation, a process, a memory, he tried to recall how long they had been captive. Three days? Four? How long did it take for trellium to destroy one's brain? He could not consider that impassively and shoved the thought away.

Finally, out of desperation, he willed himself to sleep.

*

Hours or days later, he did not know, a clanging jarred him awake. Someone was striking the metal door with a metal tool.

"Wake up, prisoner! Wake up! On your feet!"

The door was already open and the guard stood framed in it. Spock did not hesitate but lunged up, counting on his seedy appearance to belie his strength. He drove his head into the man's solar plexus and as he dropped, grabbed the metal bar from his hand and whirled toward the door.

Fortunately, part of his mind still recognized the woman standing there. Rather than braining her with the bar, Spock seized her arm and yanked her into the room, behind him, as more guards arrived outside the cell.

"She is mine!" he roared, brandishing his weapon. "Mine! You cannot have her!"

The guards ignored his ranting and ganged up on him, wrestling the bar from his hands and shoving him haphazardly back into the cell. The door closed quickly and Spock flung himself against it, then slid down to sit against it and covered his head with his arms.

Through his own ragged breathing he heard another sound.

"Spock."

He raised his head. She was squatting across the small room, watching him. He knew her. He reached his hand out to her and she moved swiftly to grasp it, and they sat looking at each other.

She spoke in Vulcan. She hoped that none of the listeners would bother to translate it, or be able to; translators were not standard fleet personnel in her day.

"What has happened to you, to your control?" she asked. He hung his head in shame and she resisted the urge to put her hands out to lift it up, to look at her. "Spock! Whatever it is, it's not your fault. You are not to blame. Now, tell me."

Her matter-of-fact tone seemed to calm him slightly. "They have been experimenting," he said, low. "With some kind of neurotoxin. It affects the brain - the mesiofrontal cortex - in the Vulcan brain it controls emotions. Some form of trellium, I believe. In the food, or water, or perhaps even in the ventilation system."

"To what end? Do they hope you will give them information?"

"I do not know. Perhaps I am merely a lab animal. If I die before we reach ch'Rihan, it will be most convenient for Tal. There will be no one to corroborate your version of the events of four years ago. He can claim my death was an accidental overdose, and concoct a version of your story for his own use. Either way, I will be either insane or dead."

"This is not how we conducted ourselves under my command," she ground out. "Tal is a disgrace. He has no right to this ship." She recalled her purpose. "So we cannot sense each other while you are under this drug?"

"It seems to inhibit telepathic neurotransmitters as mind is deaf, and without a shield. It grows worse every hour." He reached to grasp her other hand, tightly. "Hlai'vna. You must help me. You must kill me."

"I cannot. I will not. There must be another way."

"Before I become too mad to insist, you must hear me. If I survive, your people will use more invasive methods to extract information from me. This is unacceptable, especially now that they have found a way to force my mind out of control. Besides the prospect of betraying the Federation, I do not wish to betray you. Nor do I wish you to remember me like - like this - "

"Neither of those things are certain, Spock." She drew a breath. "But I do swear to you, that if you become unable to request it, and if I believe there is no other alternative, I will give you quick and clean death."

His eyes closed in relief. "Jol-ao au (I love you)," he said in her own language, too low, she hoped, for any eavesdroppers to hear. She nodded. It was all she could do.

Standing, she turned to bang on the door. The guard outside let her out; she did not look back.

"What was that last conversation about?" said Tal curiously as they walked back to her cell, almost as if she were not a prisoner and they were still fellow officers.

"He is delirious now," she said, mainly for the benefit of those she knew would be listening. "He keeps drifting in and out of his own tongue. He was asking me something about the shop."

"Charvanek, why do you persist in this fabrication?"

She glanced up at him and hoped the stab of fear in her heart didn't show on her face. "What do you mean?"

"You are traveling with Spock, son of Sarek, a Starfleet officer of a long-honored family, practically a legend in the Federation. Yet you claim that you have gathered no information during your years in exile that would aid the Empire."

"I don't see the connection."

"Don't you?" They paused before the entrance to her cell. "Then why were the two of you wandering about a hilltop on Vulcan, and himself in plain clothes, unarmed?"

"What is your theory?" she asked. "That we were meeting secretly to plot the downfall of the Federation? Or perhaps the downfall of the Empire?"

Unbelievably, Tal's hand came up to strike. Her defenses were in no way relaxed; she blocked his arm and stood ready for another blow, which never came. Instead he pushed her into the cell and activated the force field through which he glared at her.

"The downfall of the Empire will not be brought about by the likes of you," he hissed. "Traitor. Nor by him, regardless of his stature or rank. If that's why you were there, you may be sure that your efforts have been wasted."

Her back to him, she said simply, "Perhaps we were just out for a walk."

She heard his boots as he walked away. She didn't know what caused her more trepidation: the thought that he might conjure a case against her that she couldn't disprove, or that he might discover her connection to Spock. Her true connection.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up - Rough sex ahead.

Tanafau was not unduly stressed by the interrogations she was forced to undergo; she had known worse. She knew that the real ordeal awaited her on ch'Rihan; this was just a prelude, an attempt to intimidate her. Three days after her last visit to Spock, Tal reappeared before her cell.  
"Your friend Spock is proving more stubborn than we anticipated," he said casually. "However, the inhibitor we have been giving him has been having an effect. He is not divulging anything useful, but he is amusing to observe in this state."

Tanafau bit back the retort that boiled up in her throat, contenting herself with glaring at him.

"Would you like to see him?"

"No," she said with dignity. "He would not wish that."

"I thought not. Unfortunately, his wishes mean nothing to me. Perhaps in his current condition, he can persuade you to cooperate with us. If not, perhaps you will at least appease him enough to render him cooperative. He is quite violent and doesn't seem to know who or where he is." Turning to the guard, he said, "Take her to the Vulcan's cell, and put her in. And do not open the door, no matter what you hear."

*

Tanafau was torn. One the one hand, throwing her into a room with Spock was exactly what she would like most - under normal circumstances. But a room with a half-mad, nearly out of control Spock? Better to prepare for anything, she thought, and tried to push images of her lover out of her mind, to face him as an unknown.

This was fortunate. The moment the door opened, she was shoved through by the guard and it slammed behind her; she dodged aside just as a tall form hurtled across the room and flung himself against the door. He uttered a gravelly curse and his wild eyes landed on her.

"Who are you?"

"A friend," she said calmly. "You know me." They both spoke in his native tongue.

"I don't remember. No - yes!" He came closer and loomed over her. She stood her ground. He raised a hand, not to strike, but to sink it into her hair and pull back slightly so that her face tilted up to him. His other hand was on her shoulder. He felt rather unsteady.

"Vakshurik," he said as if a light were coming on in his brain.

Her mouth was just forming a smile when it was assaulted. Spock's grip on her hair tightened, his other arm clenched around her waist, and his mouth landed on hers, hard and demanding. He was not playing a role for anyone who might be watching or listening; he was not doing it for her benefit, either. His savagery was for his own satisfaction alone, she knew as she struggled to keep him from pinning her arms. What had been exciting within the clear boundaries of their lovemaking was now alarming. He was not holding anything back. Very well, then, neither would she.

Tanafau hooked her leg around him - a useful move, as she was usually the shorter assailant and her odds were better on the ground - and felled him easily, landing on top of him and knocking the air from his lungs. She planted her knees on his arms and grabbed a handful of his hair.

"Hlev'reinnye," she growled. "Don't try to take me. We'll settle that score later. Right now we must plan our escape from this place. You need to think. Use your head, Spock. Think. Who am I?"

He was still tense beneath her but he stared into her eyes. At last he said hoarsely, "Who are you?"

"I am your only friend here. Trust no one else. Do you understand?"

He just stared. She repeated it. His whisper came. "I understand. The madness - comes and goes. Go now, before I hurt you."

"I can't, Spock. Tal has locked me in. I don't know if he wants us to kill each other or just watch while we try."

"Can't get out..." He craned his neck, looking frantically around the room as if an exit would appear. "No...can't get out."

He began to weep, not even resisting her grasp now, turning his face aside and going limp between her knees. Appalled, Tanafau released his arms, leaning down to lie on top of him as his chest heaved and sobbed.

Gradually his breathing returned to normal. She thought he might have been sleeping, until he seized her shoulders and pushed her up to meet his wild stare once more.

"Get out," he growled. "Get out now, while you can."

"I can't, Spock, we're both prisoners," but her words were buried in the crescendo of his voice, practically a howl, as his legs snapped shut around her hips and his hands closed like iron on her biceps. She bucked and tried to head butt him. His long arm snaked all the way around her, pinning down one of her arms and gripping the other; he rolled on top of her and grabbed her hair again and thrust his mouth down on hers. She made the loudest, most angry sound possible into his mouth and his hand tightened in her hair.

"Too late," he rasped, jerking his head back, then plunging again to sink his teeth into her neck. She felt incredibly aroused in spite of herself and the last particle of her mind that cared what Tal thought vanished.

They both flung aside any caution or boundary and went at each other as if to determine who would be the alpha animal. She was almost ashamed at how stimulating it was, how she enjoyed the battle. It wasn't just aggressiveness, or even rough sex. It was violent.

They lay now on his sleeping pallet, their clothes in various places on the floor, he on his stomach because of the gouges in his back from her nails, she face up, running a mental inventory of her body. Her arms ached from blocking and wrestling, her hip joints were sore, and she knew she'd find more teeth marks next time she examined herself in the mirror.

"Forgive me," she heard him whisper and she rolled on her side to look at him.

"There is nothing to forgive, between us," she whispered back. "We are who we are. No excuses, and no grudges. And besides," she said, noticing marks of her own teeth on his ear, "I give as good as I get."

"We are - well matched," he muttered.

The door slid open and Tanafau snapped into a crouch. Spock raised up on his elbows with a weary expression; he had come to expect nothing good from the opening of the door. Tal and two guards stood there.

"So, you live," he said. "Both of you."

"You sound disappointed, Tal." She sneered it back at him.

"I was hoping you would kill him and save us the supply of the drug," Tal replied blandly. "He seems to have had his own way, however, despite your protests. I am pleased he did not kill you; I didn't think he could, in his condition."

Spock rolled over and sat up, wincing. He sounded almost lucid as he said, "Thank you for the gift, Commander; if you do intend to kill me, I may at least die like a man."

Tanafau shifted her crouch and lunged to strike him across the face. It was significant that he did not duck or block her this time; his reflexes had been affected by the drug as well. His head lolled back to face her with a hateful look that she hoped was feigned and he licked a trace of blood from his lip.

"Unfortunately, Spock, we have no further time for foreplay." Tal's grin was lascivious. "We approach ch'Rihan, and Charvanek will need to make herself presentable for the Praetor." His eye roved over her naked but bruised body. "Although personally I find you quite appealing."

She took a step toward him. "Try it at your own risk, Tal. The last man to touch me without my consent still bears the scars of my anger." She aimed a kick at Spock, who dodged this time. "The only reason this petakh is still alive is because he was once someone I knew."

He shrugged. "No matter. Since your clothing seems to have been destroyed, you will have to return to your cell as you are."

He gestured to the guards, who took up their positions on either side of her, trying desperately not to ogle. She walked out, indifferent to her state and as proud as the day Spock had met her.

He hoped he would see her again before he died.


	6. Chapter 6

They left him, torn and tormented, with no hint of what was to come. Like the hours and days that had gone before, he tried to assume a physical and mental attitude of meditation and wept when once more he was unable to so much as complete a thought.  
He had known exactly who she was when they had thrust her into his hell; he hoped his captors were now satisfied that they were no longer even business associates. Whether she understood his pretense, he would have to answer for later. If they had a "later".

His assault on her body had not been part of his pretense, but part of his madness. The sight of her, the nearness of her body had proved an irresistible torment, and sanity had vanished. She had given as good as she'd received, however. He was aching as though he had competed in a martial arts event - and lost.

*

"Spock! Spock! Wake up!" The voice was a shout and a whisper at the same time. The hand that shook his shoulder was small and dug its nails into his flesh. He opened his eyes to see the Romulan woman's face close to his own. She was still unclothed and lust flared within him.

"You must come now," she rasped. "They're not far behind. Now, Spock. Get up now, or die here."

He heaved himself to stand, and as she grabbed his hand he hung back. She barked a curse at him, but he stooped to pull the brown cloak from under the sleeping pallet and handed it to her. She pulled it on and spared him a look of gratitude, then made a motion for him to be silent as she took his hand again.

The guards outside the door lay crookedly against the wall, their necks broken. She had taken two disruptors from them but didn't give one to her companion; the last thing she needed was a mad Vulcan with a firearm mistaking her for one of them.

Spock held tightly to her hand; his vision had literally narrowed to a point where he could only focus on what was directly in front of him. He uttered not a sound, only clung to this person who seemed to be determined to help him. Tanafau was relieved that she didn't have to drag him, or worse yet, carry him; he was swift and light-footed as she.

Both barefoot, they dodged around corners, always seeming to be one step ahead of or behind the hunters who were beginning to search the corridors. Apparently they had only just discovered her escape.

They reached the private bay where Tal's personal runabout waited to transport her to ch'Rihan, a more grand form of transfer than beaming. It was guarded by only three men, one of whom was just leaving the room casually, as if for a break. She turned to Spock to give him an order, but he forestalled her with a look. He pointed at himself, then at the runabout guards, then at her two disruptor pistols, then at her.

"Diversion?" she mouthed and he nodded. His eyes were wild, but wily. She nodded back and activated both disruptors, holding them under the cloak for now. Spock dropped her hand and ambled into the bay, weaving and shuffling as if injured or drunk. It wasn't difficult to dissimulate.

The guards brought their weapons up, but hesitated when they saw the Vulcan prisoner, battered, weary, coming toward them.

"He's no threat. Look at him," scoffed one. "They've broken him. Contact command and tell them we found one of them."

"You contact them. I want to see what it takes to kill a Vulcan."

"Tal has something in mind for him," warned the first guard. "Better keep him alive, for now."

Spock stood, eyes downcast, arms loose, dejected. The second guard swaggered up to him and said, "Very well then, I'll keep him alive. Technically."

His hand swung up to grab Spock's collar, yanking his head back, and as he did so Spock fell and pulled the man with him, landing with the guard on top, his hold broken. Spock's hands grasped the man's head and twisted and a crack of bone announced the man's fatal injury.

The other guard, who had held fire to allow his companion to get clear, had been felled by Tanafau's disruptor. She ran past Spock into the runabout and he staggered up and followed, securing the door.

"Weapons?" he demanded and she told him, "Phasers only. He may have added photon missiles to the basic design. One pilot, one navigator. Smaller than your shuttles, more agile. Strap in."

Spock strapped in to the navigator's seat. He wasn't sure how useful he'd be, but he would be ready. Killing the guard had awakened a corner of his mind slightly, the corner meant to ensure his survival.

"The bay doors are not responding to the code from this console," she said, firing up the launch sequence. "What's their composition?"

"I can blast them," he said, answering her unspoken question, and she nodded. The runabout lifted off the deck; Spock fired and a hole appeared in the bay doors. She gunned the engine and flew straight at the hole, scraping the runabout through it and turning sharply to port as they exited the larger ship.

They led their captors a hectic chase, hugging the sides of the battleship as its onboard weaponry tried to catch up with them. Phaser cannons and the occasional photon burst pursued the runabout, which spun and dodged.

"We can't keep this up," said Tanafau. "Soon their fighters will deploy; we're within range of the base on ch'Rihan's moon."

"It has a cloaking device."

"What? Is it functional?" How could she have forgotten such a detail?

"Yes, but for limited time. We can use it in short bursts."

"Very well, then. On my mark. How long a burst?"

"Approximately ninety seconds."

"Three…two…one…mark."

As the starship's escort vessel arrived and prepared to fire on the runabout, it vanished.

The two passengers were wrenched in their seats as Tanafau dove out of their original flight pattern. Spock kept an eye on the readout which counted down their burst of invisibility, but he was losing his grip on reality. Dimly he heard her saying, "How long?" and he called out the time on the readout. The ship lurched again, but it was slowing slightly.

Tanafau asked him something about planets and trajectory; he gripped the edge of the console and said something unintelligible. He looked up to see her stabbing at the controls and entering data on his console at the same time, saw the autonav come on and heard an automated voice speaking. It would answer her questions. He could not.


	7. Chapter 7

Tanafau was calculating the distance to the nearest edge of the Neutral Zone when the cloaking device shut down and Spock slumped over on his console. She shoved her inner alarm back down into her gut and performed an evasive maneuver in case the other ships had tracked them. They were still far off and most likely unable to pick up the runabout; she had gone in a direction she hoped they would not guess. Tal's battleship was hanging back, presumably confident that they would be able to find Tal's personal craft once they caught up to it. Tanafau allowed herself a grim smile; she had changed Tal's command code as soon as she engaged the autonav. They'd be chasing a signature that no longer existed.

An hour. Another hour. Finally she felt a faint hope that they might live to see another day. Another hour, which she spent scanning for subspace chatter and getting only the usual noise. No red alerts, no indication of a larger deployment of the Praetor's forces to find one tiny ship with two insignificant prisoners in it.

She wrestled Spock out of his seat and secured him to a bunk in the back of the craft so she could access the nav console. He seemed to be semi-conscious; a quick run of the medscanner showed no serious injury beyond what she already knew of.

Now she sat in the pilot's seat once more, thinking. They had been five days inside the Neutral Zone when they had escaped; at maximum speed the little ship might make it to the nearest border within three. The runabout wasn't built for long-distance travel, however. She'd have to hope the engines would hold out.

She put her head down on the pilot's console, right next to the proximity alert panel, and fell into exhaustion.

Spock awoke hours later with a start. He was strapped into a bunk in an unfamiliar ship, but when he tested the straps they came free easily. He looked around to see the Romulan asleep on her console and memory flooded back into him. He stood and stumbled forward to kneel beside her seat.

"Hlai'vna," he whispered and she sat up immediately.

"Spock!" She blinked, "What's our status?"

Spock checked the readings. "We have thirty hours before we enter the Neutral Zone at this rate of speed. We have one more burst available from the cloaking device; we have only to reach within hailing distance of the Federation outpost, which means we will need to travel nearly half a parsec into the zone without being detected."

"Anyone following us?"

"It does not appear so. Although I may have overlooked something. Please, double check the readings." He sat back on the deck as she did so; she then turned back to see his head bowed and his arms loosely clasping his knees.

"How do you feel?"

Without raising his head, he answered, "Not myself. Not yet. It will take time for the effects of the drug to wear off. If they ever do."

"If?"

"There are some trellium derivatives that leave permanent brain damage. For now, I am emotionally disturbed, and I still sense the edges of sanity from time to time. You should restrain me again."

She took his arm, helped him stand and move back to the bunk. He dropped down to sit on it, as if his bones had gone limp. She stood before him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Spock, k'diwa," she whispered. "Be strong. We've been through so much. Stay with me." She hardly knew what she was saying; she had been in command of herself for so long now, she felt her grip on her own emotions slipping. He leaned into her arms and burrowed his head into her neck and she allowed herself one moment of sheer joy at the thought of being joined with this man. Hard to believe that I could be so moved by the touch of an alien hand, she thought and sighed. She drew out of his embrace and lifted his feet up so he could lie down, strapping him in for safety, not to restrain him, leaving his arms free. He could break through these puny bonds no matter how tightly she bound him, anyway.

His eyes closed and he murmured something. She leaned down to kiss his cheek and felt the faintest flush of emotion. She hoped their bond was returning to normal.

Spock slept the sleep of the dead, and Tanafau sat silently at the controls and kept watch on the readings, and on her beloved.

*

He awoke again, his mind slightly more clear, and saw Tanafau curled up under the command console, naked, with his cloak rolled up under her head. The woman has transformed back into a soldier, he thought wryly and unbuckled his straps. Immediately she awoke and rolled out from under the console.

"I am impressed," he said. "Anyone else of my acquaintance would have hit their head on the console."

She actually smiled. "Years of practice, my Vulcan. It took me a long time, and many kinds of ships, before I had my own command. I've slept under a lot of consoles while on alert." She stretched and Spock looked away, guarding against the bolt of lust that shot through his body. He heard her put the cloak on as he breathed deeply; meditation and control were still out of reach. She prudently did not come near him, but sat in the pilot's seat and checked their position.

"Fortunately, this is a relatively unpopulated sector," she told him. "We are now twenty hours from the Neutral Zone, traveling at a speed which has not attracted attention from the locals. We cannot increase our speed; we'd not only look like we were running, but we'd also burn out the engines sooner."

He came to sit in the navigator's seat, thinking as best he could. After some time he asked, "Is the cloaking device powered from the main drive?"

"No, apparently the designers learned from their mistakes with the prototype. It has its own power unit. That's why this particular model can only be used for short bursts - it can hold only so much of a charge, but at least we could beam out or fire while cloaked."

"Do you know where the device is mounted? I would like to examine it."

They went to the rear of the runabout and she removed a panel about a meter wide from the floor. "This is the unit itself. There is the power unit. The entire device is independent of the ship's systems, except for the activation circuitry." At his lifted eyebrow, she said, "I've had a lot of time to read the schematics on this voyage."

"Impressive. I wonder whether this power unit could be augmented by tying it into the warp drive."

"Giving us a longer period of invisibility?" She sat back on her heels and considered it. "The runabout was equipped with engines that would hold up for a day at maximum warp, longer at impulse speed. After that they will overload and we'll be dead in space. But our inertia should carry us a little further. And a longer cloak would buy us some time even as the engines shut down."

"I will attempt to calculate how far the power, and the cloak, may be prolonged. I believe that focusing on the data may help me recover my mental faculties, to a certain extent. I will still need you to verify my findings, however."

"As you wish."

Several hours later, he had a working theory. It would have to be tested in the field; they were approaching the Neutral Zone.


	8. Chapter 8

This time it was Spock at the pilot's console, so that if they were contacted it would be a Vulcan the other saw. His cover story was that he had lost consciousness and his ship had crossed into the Zone while on autonav, and he was attempting to return to Federation space. They had dropped out of warp in hope that their slower speed would delay attracting the attention of the patrols.

"Although I am not sure how to explain how I came to possess a Romulan runabout. Fortunately, I have had more practice at prevarication than most Vulcans," he said drily, "due to my experience as a Starfleet officer."

"Such as the incident which brought us together."

"Fortunately, I was not called upon to prevaricate to a great degree on that mission. Your perspicacity was formidable."

"You must be feeling better, Spock. Your vocabulary is increasingly polysyllabic." She frowned. "To a great degree?"

"To be exact, my only subterfuge was in reference to my purpose aboard your ship. Our more - intimate conversation was motivated entirely by personal interests."

She was about to ask about his personal interests when the comm beeped. Spock flipped on the audio and heard a voice say in Romulan, "KHR-3674, identify yourself." This was the designation marked on the runabout's hull. Spock responded.

"This is KHR-3674, responding; I am off course and attempting to return to Federation space."

"That is not a Federation vessel. Explain."

"I am unable to spare the time to do so at the moment. Please allow me passage to the border."

"Negative. If you are a citizen of the Empire, you are forbidden to cross the Zone. If you are of the Federation, we cannot allow our technology to be captured by their forces. Power down your engines and we will take your ship in tow."

"Unable to read. Please repeat your instructions."

"KHR-3674, stand by for tractor beam."

"We have to do it now," whispered Tanafau from the navigator's console. Spock nodded and closed the comm frequency, and at the same time he deployed the cloaking device. Coming about sharply, the runabout doubled back, doubled again, turned in the direction of the nearest border, and Spock shut down the engines completely. They drifted forward at near-impulse, leaving no ion trail; he only hoped their trajectory could not be calculated accurately after her maneuvers.

"How long will the cloaking device conceal us?" asked Tanafau.

"Approximately ten minutes. After that the power we usurped from environmental control will give out; the ship will be visible, and our oxygen and temperature will begin to drop."

"And after that? How long can we survive?"

"Assuming that, by some miracle, we elude the patrol, approximately thirty minutes."

*

The Federaton flagship was cruising the edges of the Neutral Zone like a shark.

"Sir, picking up an object at twenty-four mark two. Manufactured, dimensions - it's a ship, sir." Chekov turned from the science station, where he was performing some of Mr. Spock's duties. "Romulan design, smaller than our shuttle. It seems to be adrift, just inside the Neutral Zone."

"Life signs?"

"None, sir. I don't understand it."

"Captain! Another Romulan craft has appeared inside the Zone. Battleship, heavy weapons. It's targeting the smaller ship."

The Romulan battleship's phasers struck the runabout, which shattered, its momentum carrying its pieces onward toward the border of the Neutral Zone. Tal had destroyed his own runabout and any beings or evidence it contained. He hoped this would stand him well when he went before the Praetor to answer for Charvanek's escape. The ship came about and held position, waiting to see what Enterprise would do.

On the Enterprise bridge, Kirk said over his shoulder to Chekov, "Scan the debris."

"What am I looking for, sir?"

"I don't know. Anything out of place. Equipment, anything left intact - " He swallowed hard. "Bodies." He clenched his fist on the arm of the chair and forced himself to breathe. Surely, if that ship had been piloted by either Spock or Tanafau, they must have anticipated this. What would they have done? "Bring us as close as you dare, Mr. Sulu."

"Captain, the Romulan ship is hailing us," said Lt. Uhura.

"Open a channel, Lieutenant. Main screen." A pause, then an oddly familiar face appeared on the screen.

"Captain Kirk. I see that you continue to command Enterprise."

"Sub-commander - Commander Tal," replied Kirk, noting the different uniform and insignia. "Congratulations on your advancement."

Tal ignored this. "What is your purpose in this sector?"

"I don't believe we have to answer that, Commander. We are not inside the Neutral Zone; we are in Federation space. We have a right to patrol our borders. On the other hand, your ship is in the Zone, and in clear violation of the treaty. You are obliged to withdraw immediately into Romulan territory."

"We are recovering the wreckage of the ship that was just destroyed. When that task is accomplished - "

"It won't be accomplished, Commander. The wreckage is also inside the Zone and subject to terms of the treaty; without establishing its former ownership we must allow it to remain until further investigations can be made."

Kirk leaned back a little and saw, out of the corner of his eye, Chekov approaching with a padd. He took it without looking at the Russian as Tal said stiffly, "I must consult with my superiors. Please stand by." His face vanished and Kirk's eyes dropped to scan the padd. Then he was on his feet.

"What result, Mr. Chekov?"

"No bodies, sir. But there is a significant piece of debris which seems to be a sealed compartment. No life signs. And it shows no sign of phaser damage."

"Kirk to Transporter One."

"Aye, Captain."

"Prepare to beam aboard a small object, part of a ship, with possibly two life forms inside. Mr. Chekov is sending coordinates. Mr. Sulu, stand by to leave the vicinity at maximum warp."

"Aye, sir. Any particular heading?"

"Set course for Vulcan. Kirk to Sickbay. Bones!"

"What is it, Jim?"

"Get to transporter room one with a medical team."

"Spock?"

"And his girl friend. I hope."

"I'm on my way."

"Captain," said Uhura. "Commander Tal is hailing us again." Kirk nodded to her and Tal reappeared.

"Captain Kirk, the debris in question has been identified as Romulan in origin. Clearly it belongs to the Empire and we have the right - "

"Now, Mr. Chekov," said Kirk under his breath and heard Chekov mutter a sentence into his comm pickup. Tal was still speaking. " - pursuing a fugitive from justice. This is none of your affair."

"On the contrary, it is very much our affair. We have reason to believe that one of our officers was lost in this sector, and we can't rule out the possibility that he - or his body - was on that ship."

"In which case I regret to inform you that there are no detectable life signs in the debris."

"We intend to remain in the area until our scans are complete. If you'll excuse me, Commander." Uhura took her cue and cut the transmission.

"Transporter One to the bridge. We have retrieved the object in question and are unsealing it now. Dr. McCoy and his team have just arrived. Sir - it's Mr. Spock. And - "

"I'm on my way. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."


	9. Chapter 9

It was rectangular, the size of a turbolift, and one end had been opened. A security guard stuck his head out and said, "Captain, Doctor, we have a problem."

"What problem? Are they alive?"

"Yes, sir, they seem to be. They're unconscious. But they're - holding on so tightly, we can't separate them to bring them out."

Kirk snapped, "Cut a bigger hole, then."

"Aye, sir." The engineers got to work and soon there was a larger opening. McCoy ducked inside to check his patients before they were moved and emerged almost immediately.

"They'll do. Bring the large gurney, Mason. We'll have to put them both on it."

"Bones - "

"They're going to be okay, Jim. Let me do my job."

Kirk nodded. One crewmember was now wedged inside the box and two stood ready as the bodies were extricated together. Spock looked like hell warmed over; his arms were wrapped around a smaller form, Tanafau, also bruised and battered, wrapped in a large brown cloak with her arms locked around the Vulcan's waist.

"Not entirely unconscious, or we could pry 'em apart," muttered McCoy. "Hypothermia. Minor burns. Broken capillaries, probably the drop in pressure. Spock has a broken tibia, and high levels of something toxic I can't identify in his bloodstream. They're both breathing but their pulse rates are lower than normal. Let's get 'em down to Sickbay."

In Sickbay, Spock listened, his eyes closed, as McCoy barked orders and the monitors hummed. Familiar sounds that he'd thought never to hear again. For the moment, all his thoughts were focused on the woman in his arms, unconscious, cold, but still alive. He knew he was still out of control and didn't want to face conversation with friend or foe. So he kept his eyes shut, until McCoy tugged gently on his arm and said, "Spock. Come on, I know you can hear me. Let go and we'll take care of her now. You're both going to be all right."

He allowed them to take her from him, opening his eyes now to watch where she went, ignoring Kirk's and McCoy's attempts to engage him in conversation. When he could no longer keep his eyes open he slept.

*

Tanafau opened her eyes to the sight of a blue-eyed scowling face.

"Dr. McCoy," she said faintly. "Or is this the afterlife?"

"Depends. Do you think you're gonna end up in heaven or hell?" The scowl lightened up a bit. "How do you feel?"

"I think I'm thawing out. Slowly." She tried to lift her head; it was too much effort. "Spock - "

"Is asleep, which is good, because he's a lousy patient. I'm starting the process of flushing the trellium compound out of his system."

"Thank you," she whispered. "When convenient, I would like to speak to Captain Kirk."

McCoy recognized the tone, that of someone who was not accustomed to being denied. "I'll pass that on."

"You don't have to, Bones," said a voice from beyond him. A gold shirt appeared and Tanafau took a deep breath.

"Captain, I would like to formally request that the Federation grant me asylum on political grounds."

"Granted, subject to red tape, of course." At her blank look he clarified. "Bureaucratic delay."

She smiled. "Of course. I simply wish to make my request on the record, as it were, since the last time I entered Federation space things did not go very well."

"Believe me, I'll be sure to take a personal interest in your progress this time."

*

Spock awoke to the touch of a small hand on his face. Tanafau stood beside his bed.

"Spock," she whispered. "We did it. Spock." He looked up at her as she leaned down to kiss his forehead, then reached for her and she climbed into bed beside him. He pulled her down into a deep, lavish kiss and she responded with abandon. Just as he felt moved to act upon the stirring in his groin, she broke the kiss and said in Romulan, "We're not alone, h'levreinnye."

Spock had heard footsteps but had hoped they were bound elsewhere. Now he turned his head to see McCoy and Kirk, and Chapel, approaching the bed where they were once more entwined. Tanafau lay her head on his chest and smiled.

"Feeling better, Spock?" asked McCoy archly, and was rewarded by the usual raising of the eyebrow.

"Well enough to be discharged from Sickbay, to return to my quarters and prepare for the interminable briefing which I know is about to take place."

The doctor shook his head. "I don't think so, Commander. You still have significant trellium poisoning in your bloodstream, and until I figure out a way to speed up the purging process, it's going to be several days before you're fit for duty."

"Very well, doctor. May I at least recuperate in the privacy of my quarters?"

"You need to be under observation, Spock."

"I can help you with that, doctor," said Tanafau.

"Meanwhile," the captain broke in, "Can you tell me why we found you in a probe shell, floating near the neutral zone, with no life support and a failing heat source?"

"Tanafau knew that the Romulans would not relent until they had seen the ship destroyed," said Spock. "We needed to get as close as possible to the border and trust that Enterprise would be scanning the area. The shell was the only unit we were able to render airtight, and the emergency blanket was most likely of an inferior design."

"It would have been a close call, whether you'd freeze to death or asphyxiate," grumbled McCoy.

"We programmed the weapons system to jettison the shell," continued Tanafau, "knowing that its momentum would carry it some distance. We were out of range of Romulan weapons when they fired on the ship and destroyed it."

Spock heard McCoy mutter something about cats and nine lives.


	10. Chapter 10

Spock walked through the door into his quarters feeling as though he had been absent for years. Then he became irritated at the constant intrusion of such emotions on his logical thought processes. Then he realized that the irritation and the sense of time loss were both results of his recent ordeal, and there his mind stopped. He stood still and covered his face with his hands as if he could heal himself with them.  
His wrist was encircled by a small hand, a soft voice said, "Come, Spock, you need more sleep," and he dropped his hands and went with her like a child. She made him lie down on his bed and covered him with a blanket, which he pulled up almost over his ears like a cocoon. She smiled and turned to leave the room.

"You will not go?" came his voice, low, tired, pleading.

"I won't," she said gently. "I'll be right here. Sleep."

She went and took a bath, a rare luxury for someone who had spent years on a desert planet, but her ears were tuned for sounds from the bedroom. When she emerged, Spock was lying in exactly the same position she had left him in. She hung up her towel and crawled into bed behind him, pulling the blanket over herself and pressing as close as she could to his heat. He did not stir, but she could feel him breathing and was content.

*

Later, when Kirk came by to check on his first officer, Spock was still sleeping. Tanafau had awakened and dressed and made coffee, and she and Kirk sat looking out the viewport like old friends. Or old enemies, she thought wryly.

Kirk studied her profile. She had a strong chin and a sober countenance, when it was at rest, eyes of an indistinct hazel color, long mouse-brown hair, a steady gaze when she turned to look at him.

"You don't know what he sees in me," she stated and her lips quirked up briefly.

"No, I think I can see that," said Kirk. "I wonder how the rest of the universe sees you. How you see yourself, how you see Spock. Your perspective is unique, as far as I can tell."

"How so?"

"Think about it. The first woman to command a Romulan starship; the first Romulan to survive captivity by the Federation; the only Romulan legally residing in Federation space." He paused, then added, "And as far as I know, the only woman Spock has willingly given his life to."

"I am a woman making my way through life; I have found a companion; I have finally discovered where my home lies."

"On Vulcan?"

"With him," she said simply. "Perhaps not on Vulcan at all. As you know, Captain, neither of us is what you would call domesticated. It's what drove us both to live as nomads among the stars. Now I find myself wishing for something more stable, but not a tether. A bond. A partnership." She smiled and added, "You and he are also partners, Captain. In another way."

They were both startled by a sound from the next room. A hoarse voice was saying, "H'laivna..."

Tanafau rose without haste and said, "He would prefer not to see any of his crewmates until he feels ready," she said in a low voice. "Not even you. I hope you understand."

"I do. Take care of him."

She nodded and Kirk slipped out. She went back into the bedroom to find Spock sitting up, rubbing his face with his hands.

"How long have I slept?" he asked.

"Not long enough, I think. But it's a start. Are you hungry?"

He shook his head, rose and stretched. His body ached as though he had been beaten. If he moved too quickly he was hit with vertigo, and he felt surges of annoyance at his weakened state. After a long shower he emerged to find his beloved sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading. In a fit of pique he threw his towel on the floor.

She looked up and he said, annoyed, "I do not need a nurse, nor a keeper," then was ashamed of himself and let out an exasperated sound. She watched him without expression and put her reader down.

"Believe me, Spock," said Tanafau, unfolding herself to come kneel on the bed before him, "I am not here to nurse you, or monitor you, or in any way supervise your recovery. I will put up with only so much temperament from you."

"And then?" His face softened; he was nearly smiling.

"Then you will have to deal with some from me," she told him. He knelt on the floor and took hold of her by the waist, just looking up at her, and she was startled by the transparency of his expression. It was as though Vulcan reserve had been erased; this is what he'd look like if he were wholly human, she thought.

"Yes," he said, sensing something. "You see me differently, right now. There is no control. There is no restraint, no discipline. Not the kind I have known. Only the boundaries of my own choices and desires and judgment - subject to the monsoon of my emotions." He shook his head, disoriented, and leaned against her; she put her arms around him as he said, "How do they live like this? How do you live like this?"

"My Vulcan," she said against his cheek. "We do our best. And we wonder how you can live as you do." She felt him nodding.


	11. Chapter 11

Spock lifted his face. As once before, he whispered, "Kiss me," and this time the words came easily, not from practice, but from the absence of the lifelong barrier which, until now, had had to be let down deliberately - if at all. It was gone - under repair, he thought giddily - and for once he was without boundaries and he laughed into her kiss.

Tanafau sensed what was going on and smiled. She kissed him again and again; he wanted it light, hard, soft, deep, different every time, slow, urgent. It was like watching a child in a candy shop.

"More," he murmured. "More. Everything."

She laughed and tumbled back on the bed and he climbed up to hover over her, a fond smile on his face. She sifted his hair with her fingers and he closed his eyes like a cat, turned his head, captured her fingers with his lips, nipping lightly. She rescued her hand and slid her warm fingers aside to trace the tip of his ear; he gasped and said, low, "You witch," but he was smiling as he brought his mouth down to hers.

She lay between his knees as he straddled her body, not quite touching her except for his kiss, his legs folded, arms now braced on either side of her. She unfastened her garment while her mouth was busy and pulled it open so that she was exposed completely, ready for whatever he wanted next.

Spock looked down at her, then at himself, and seemed comically surprised at his aroused condition.

"Fascinating," he said, in almost his normal voice. "I am used to being in control of this reaction. Now, it seems," his voice becoming muffled as he burrowed his face against her neck and rolled over with her, "it seems that it has taken control of me." The organ to which he referred twitched against her and she grinned at him.

"H'levreinnye," she said and moved to sit beside him as he lay on his back and stretched out his legs. "Lie there and I'll show you some reactions."

She began at the top of his head, stroking his hair, smoothing her palms over his forehead and cheeks and ears, reaching around to rub the back of his neck. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open; she touched his lips with a finger and he kissed it.

Her hands moved down to his shoulders, not massaging but stroking slowly, letting him feel her on every part of his skin. Her hands slid down his long arm, feeling sinew and muscle, his fingers curling around hers as she slipped them down to the end. The other arm. Then she began at the center of his clavicle and let her nails rake lightly down through his chest hair, down and outward, back in as she reached his navel and he drew a sharp breath.

"No," she exclaimed, enlightened. "Not ticklish, are you? The mighty Spock of Vulcan?" She felt his muscles flinch under her fingers and couldn't resist a few light touches. He gasped again and reached for her, but she had lowered her head to his belly and brushed her tongue over his navel, pushing down the leg which had jerked involuntarily, her other hand capturing his without looking up. His head fell back and he groaned.

"I will have to kill you now," he said breathlessly. "Not even my mother is privy to this knowledge. Ah!" as she nipped at his skin, kissed him there, rose up to look at him once more.

"You don't want to do that, Spock," she whispered. "Kill me, and no more of this." She took her left hand and slid it down his belly to the fold of his thigh, barely touching his sex, and with her right she touched his lips and his mouth opened to take her fingers in again. His mouth, she thought, was the place where his pleasure was greatest - well, almost; his kisses were nearly as powerful as the union of their bodies in climax. Even on her fingers it made her burn more brightly.

She was distracted; he surged up, trapping her hand in his mouth, his other arm coming around to pull her against him. They ended up on their sides, facing each other, his hand stroking her lips as he had the first time they caressed, his lips and teeth savoring her fingers.

Tanafau's mouth was tingling now and she wanted to taste him. Nipping down his palm, she took the heel of his hand in her teeth and bit down, not breaking the skin. He opened his eyes to watch her as she gnawed lightly up his thumb -

\- and the comm panel sounded.

Tanafau withdrew her hand and teeth from Spock as he stared dazedly at the comm. Then his head dropped forward onto the bed and she heard him utter a word she did not know, but which sounded like a curse. She stifled a giggle. It was amazing how quickly the mood could change.

The comm sounded again. "McCoy to Spock."

Spock looked up at her and whispered, "Perhaps he'll give up."

"McCoy to Commander Spock, please respond."

"Your Dr. McCoy? Give up? If you don't answer he'll be here in moments with a medical team."

This time he repeated the exclamation and then spoke up toward the panel. "Spock here, Doctor. What do you want?"

"Everything okay there, Spock?"

"Yes, Doctor. Very okay. And yourself?"

She couldn't silence her giggle completely.

"Fine," said McCoy cautiously. "I was just checking in, wanted to ask you - " His voice broke off; Tanafau's smothered laugh must have been clearly audible to him, because he went on, "Spock, are you - er- entertaining?"

"I am making love to my fiancée, Doctor. Was that what you wanted to ask me?"

"What the devil are you doing answering the comm, then? Green-blooded idiot - Deactivate the damn thing, will you?"

The comm cut off abruptly and Tanafau let loose with a howl. She hadn't laughed so hard in years. Spock went over and entered a code on the panel, locking out further incoming communications, then went out into the next room. When he returned she had nearly caught her breath and she asked, "Where did you go?"

"To make sure the door to my quarters was locked." He flopped down beside her. "My vigilance seems to have vanished along with my discipline."

"Shameful," she said. "What does that word mean, that you said when McCoy called?"

"Which word?"

"It sounded like 'fuck'."

"Ah yes, a bit of vulgar human slang you are not likely to hear while living on Vulcan."

"What does it mean?"

"Let me show you," he purred and rolled on top of her; she spread herself for him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he slid his hot length into her body. He took a long time and she closed her eyes and moaned as he teased her, gently, in, out, his own breath quickening.

"This," he murmured, "is fucking," and he began to rock more urgently into her, "the joining of two lovers' bodies," more deeply, "in mutual ecstasy," his mouth hot against her ear, "the highest pleasure," she groaned as his cock stroked against her insides, "between a man and a woman,", faster, and his words were lost in gasps and thrusts and her own cries and she could not hold him tightly enough as she felt both their bodies spasm and twist and gradually, slowly, excruciatingly relax.

She was still tangled under him, his mouth caressing her throat, when he heard her say, in an awed tone, "Fuck."

It was his turn to howl.


	12. Chapter 12

McCoy allowed several hours to pass before he attempted to contact Spock again.  
"McCoy to Commander Spock."

"Spock here."

"You're not busy at the moment, are you?" At least he didn't hear anyone giggling in the background.

"No, Doctor. My companion is currently getting some much-needed sleep. I am having something to eat. Would you care to join me?"

McCoy considered for a moment. "I'll be there in five minutes. McCoy out."

He arrived to find his Vulcan friend in off-duty t-shirt and pants, eating what looked like ramen with a pair of chopsticks as he wandered around his quarters. Spock caught McCoy's eye and grinned. Grinned. McCoy stared like an idiot and Spock laughed out loud.

"Your expression is priceless, Doctor," said the Vulcan as they both sat, Spock cross-legged on the floor, McCoy on the couch. "I will treasure the memory of it long after my condition has been restored to normal. I trust that is why you are here?"

"It is." McCoy found his voice. "Your condition might take longer than I thought to resolve."

Spock's countenance returned to a close-to-normal sober appearance. "What are the factors involved?"

"The composition of your blood, the differences between your brain and that of a non-hybrid Vulcan," McCoy said promptly. "Not to mention that the particular compound of trellium they used is not in any of the Federation databases."

"What can be done to expedite the process?"

"You in some kind of hurry, Spock?" The doctor eyed him curiously. "Already tired of experiencing emotions to their fullest?"

"Not yet," replied the Vulcan. "For example, I am currently feeling rather annoyed. I can only conclude that your presence has something to do with it."

McCoy grinned. "I concur with your finding, Mr. Spock. So, do you have a particular reason to get back to your old self sooner rather than later?"

"Only in that, while I feel physically able to carry out my duties as usual, I am not looking forward to having to do so while distracted by emotions over which I have little control."

"Just like the rest of us, Spock. You'll have to cope."

"Not like the rest of you at all, Doctor." Spock stood and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it irritably. Bones had never seen Spock so much as touch his hair, let alone mess it up. The Vulcan went on speaking. "You have nearly lifelong practice at even the minimal control humans use to contain themselves. Vulcan emotions and impulses are more intense, more overwhelming, than those of a human. And harder to rein in. Without the help of my physiological ability to do so, I fear my control will be - unreliable."

"Thus the constant need for meditation, discipline, and all that," McCoy said quietly. "I get you."

"So I ask again, Doctor, what can be done?"

Bones tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch, thinking. Finally he said, "I have a few ideas. And a few questions. Well, just one more."

"Proceed."

McCoy leaned forward and said, almost incredulously, "Your fiancée?"


	13. Epilogue

"Spock. It is good to speak with you, my son."

"And you, Father. I trust all is well with you and Mother."

"It is. She appreciated your subspace message as soon as you were rescued. I understand that Tanafau is on her way back to us?"

"Yes." Spock breathed deeply, centering himself as best he could. "Father, there is something you and Mother should know before we return."

Amanda's face appeared over Sarek's shoulder in the viewscreen. Spock forgot his effort to maintain a Vulcan demeanor and smiled at her. Sarek looked startled; Amanda looked amused.

"What is it, Spock?"

"Tanafau and I are betrothed," her son blurted. Paradoxically, Sarek did not seem fazed by this news. Amanda appeared, not surprised, but delighted.

"Oh, Spock, I was hoping!" she exclaimed. "That is good news."

"I'm glad you think so, Mother." Spock eyed his father with more doubt.

"You are well matched," said Sarek equably. "And as you would be staying here until your healing was complete at any rate, you will have time to arrange for a suitable bonding ceremony."

His son seemed to have been struck speechless, a rare occasion indeed. Amanda took pity on him and said, "We'll talk about it when you get here, sweetheart. Give my love to Tanafau."

Spock nodded and said something suitable as he signed off.

He had the feeling his life would not be his own for some time to come...

**Author's Note:**

>  _Thaessu_ : Romulan for a person of the Vulcan species  
> * _hlai'vna_ : Romulan for "wild bird"


End file.
